


A Heart Plus a Heart

by canistakahari



Series: Bones-breaks-a-leg-'verse [3]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Moving In Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:22:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari/pseuds/canistakahari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Bones move in together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Heart Plus a Heart

“This is the last one,” Jim says, lifting a box up from the floor in the hallway and carrying it into the living room.  
  
“You have a lot of stuff,” grunts Bones, stumbling back against the wall as Jim piles the box on top of the one already in his arms. “How do you have so much stuff? I don’t have this much stuff.”  
  
“These are all books,” says Jim. “Put them where the books live.”  
  
Bones glowers at him over the top of the box, takes a step backward, and puts both boxes down on the floor exactly where he was just standing. “Here. This is good for now.”  
  
“Ah, yes, how could I be so blind?” says Jim dryly.  
  
“We’ll need a new bookshelf,” explains Bones, looking critically at the boxes and suitcases strewn around the front hall and living room. There’s an endearing cowlick in his hair and his cheeks are flushed from exertion. “Maybe a new TV stand with storage space for that personal video store of yours.”  
  
“I like how you still call them videos,” Jim says fondly. “When was the last time you actually used a VCR?”  
  
“I still have one,” says Bones defensively. “But I stopped using it after it ate my copy of  _Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade_.”  
  
“It’s okay, I have that on DVD,” says Jim.   
  
Bones is still scanning the piles of boxes, walking around and opening the tops of them to peer inside. “Did you label any of these?” he demands. “This one seems to contain a lamp, a colander, and two stuffed animals.” He straightens up and levels a pitying look Jim’s way.   
  
“What was that you were saying about shelves?” Jim says hastily. He opens the box he  _thinks_  contains his toiletries and instead finds his stereo and CDs. Bones might have a point.  
  
“Oh,” says Bones, derailed from whatever lecture about the virtues of effective packing and labeling that he was about to deliver. “Yeah. We should go to IKEA tomorrow.”  
  
An unexpected warmth grips Jim right around the heart at the idea of doing something as domestic as buying furniture together at IKEA. “Okay,” he says, smiling. “We can have lunch there. I love those tiny meatballs.”  
  
Unpacking happens in bursts throughout the rest of the day, both of them periodically getting tired and bored of walking back and forth between rooms to deposit piles of clothes, kitchen appliances, and miscellaneous items in their appropriate places. Bones’s excited discovery that Jim owns a twice-used stand mixer devolves into a countertop make-out session, and Jim’s attempt to put away his sex toys ends in, well, sex. With toys.   
  
Eventually, everything has found at least a temporary place, and Jim emerges from a much-needed shower to find Bones standing in the middle of the bedroom with his hands on his hips, just looking around.   
  
“Hey, you,” says Jim quietly, walking up behind him and tucking an arm around his belly. He settles his chin on Bones’s shoulder and kisses his jaw. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Nothing,” murmurs Bones. “It’s nice. All your stuff mixed up with mine.”   
  
“C’mon,” says Jim, grinning. “I’ll make you dinner.”  
  
“You’ll  _burn_  me dinner, you mean,” grumbles Bones.   
  
“Semantics!”  
  
“Truth.”  
  
Jim shuts him up with a kiss.


End file.
